Guess who's back. Back Again

XCOMS back. Tell a friend.

Anyways. Welcome back to Enigma Ladies and Gents.

This is a relativly short chapter, however I have a metric fuck-ton of planning to do for the next few chapters, so I figured I would power this one out as quick as possible so you all don't get to antsy by a longer wait than usual.

Nothing to crazy, but I do need to do some serious revisions to my original plan for this story.

As per usual I would like to thank my truly the best around Beta Reader Xabiar, for their help in ensuring this story is not lost to the terrible side of the writing world.

And as always do not be shy in leaving reviews. I love reviews. I adore them. I reread them all the time. Do not hesitate in reviewing this story. Just. DO IT.

Anyways hope your all doing well, and do enjoy this chapter!

Cheers

Alex Lee


Friday, September 18th, 2024

800 Hours 12 Minutes 22 Seconds

The military has a saying: "Even the best laid plans only survives till first contact."

It's basically their way of saying shit can, and will, hit the fan no matter how well-planned an operation is.

What people often forget though, is that this applies to everything in life, not just military operations.

Such is what happened the morning of September 18th, mere hours after I had been discharged from the medical bay.

We were all in the cafeteria when the news first broke.

I remember us all laughing about some stupid one-liner Holly had shouted out on the previous mission, after blasting one of the ambushing Berserkers in the face. So carefree and relaxed, that you would have probably never guessed we had just survived a near-death experience.

"Hey! Turn up the volume quick!"

Normally, I ignored the other soldiers around us in favor of focusing on my teammates. However, the sheer level of shock and surprise evident in the man's voice, all but forced me to turn and find out what the commotion was all about.

Surprisingly, almost everyone seemed to be focused on the televisions that sat mounted on the walls, paying close attention to the breaking news report that was dominating all the major airways.

The volume of each device was quickly jacked up so the voice of the visibly concerned reporter came through loud and clear.

"-e invading force has, for the first time since they arrived here almost two years ago, opened up channels of communication. We would again like to send our thanks to the crew of camera team four for braving this potentially life threatening situation, as we are now going live to them from inside one of the alien bases. Rachel, what can you tell us from the ground?"

Shocked mutterings erupted from the surrounding men and women, as the scene suddenly switch to live footage of another young woman, clad in a tac vest and combat helmet, standing in front of what looked to be a large black stage.

"I'm here, Linda! We are coming to you live from inside one of the forward operating military bases the aliens have set up here on earth. A base which honestly, from what we can see, is devoid of almost any alien personel or creatures. So far we have not been given any further information on why the aliens decided to communicate with us now of all times. However it is worth noting that they have promised no harm will befall any of the invited media here, so long as we follow their instructions, and do not show any hostile intent."

"Bullshit..." Lock grimaced beside me. "This has to be some kind of demonstration or something. Whatever they are planning, it will not end well for those poor people..."

I could only nod in agreement, having now witnessed first-hand what the aliens were willing to do to innocent humans.

"They have told us they would like to address the world now," Rachel was saying. " It also appears that something is happening on stage."

The camera instantly panned to the stage and zoomed in on what looked to be the podium area, where a slender, well dressed, human male now stood.

In terms of stage presence, he was lacking immensely. His pale skin contrasted heavily with the black suit and sunglasses he wore, while the slicked back black hair on his head only further made me wonder if he took fashion advice from greasers.

One would almost began to wonder if the wrong person had gotten up on stage, until he finally opened his mouth and spoke. "Hello. I come to you as the voice and will of the Elders. My name, and anything else about me, is not important. You may however address me as only the Speaker, if such is required."

"Well, he certainly has a high opinion of himself." I muttered quietly to myself. A sharp jab from Lock let me know she had heard me as well, and wanted me to shut up.

"Hear the words of the Elders. For they are benevolent and just," the Speaker continued, the his thin face turning to stone. "They saw great potential in us! They wished nothing more than for us to take our rightful place beside them amongst the stars! Now hear their words, and hear them well!"

A small pause followed as he appeared to collect his thoughts. Gasps suddenly breaking out as a soft purple glow began enveloping his head.

"Humans" he bellowed. "Long have we watched and waited. So many promising subjects. So many failed efforts," his fists clenched in righteous fury. "Yet despite our best attempts, you were unable to achieve the results we so desired. You did not evolve and ascend to the even greater heights we had hoped you would."

"For two years we have been testing you," he continued passionately. "We drove you to push against the bars of your evolutionary cage. We gave you new technology piece by piece. We gave you the gift. Yet despite our generosity, you have failed us just as the others before you did."

He voice lowered and slowed. "We had such high hopes for you, and our hope blinded us to your downfall. The search for the perfect being will continue. The only question left now, what becomes of you."

A flash of red, and the black screen behind the speaker lit up with a strange bright red symbol. "To this end, we offer this final opportunity to you now."

The Speaker motioned towards the screen with a grand sweep of his arm."Join us! Become a member of ADVENT. Let the Elders guide you into the future as they have done with all races before you. They will ensure humanity can still leave its mark on the universe as I am sure you all dream of doing."

He raised a finger, the screen now showing various different alien species, one by one. "The versatility your species has shown on the battlefield against even the toughest of our forces would make you an excellent addition to our legions."

What appeared to be a state of the art medical facility, clearly alien in nature, appeared next on the screen.

"You have only had but a taste of the technology we could provide you with. It will make meaningless death to disease and injury a thing of the past. Injuries previous thought to be untreatable. Cancer. Allergies. Paralysis. All ailments can be cured with our help."

The strange red symbol flashed on screen once more.

"In ADVENT, you will find hope, meaning and purpose the likes of which you thought impossible. In ADVENT everyone will find a new home."

A smile crossed his face as he continued."Fear not, for we will spare all who join us peacefully. Even those who have fought against us in the past. But should you choose to oppose us any further, or even dare support those who do, you will pay for your mistake with the blood of every single man, woman and child under your control."

His smile vanishing completely as he delivered the chilling ultimatum.

"You have ten days to deliver your response."

The glow around the Speaker's head instantly extinguished upon speaking the final words. Sending him stumbling forwards, before he slumped back down onto podium.

"That is all they have to say for now," he exhaled heavily. "However, consider your options carefully. For your answers may well be the last one's this world has to give."

Silence permeated both the airways and the cafeteria long after the Speaker had staggered off stage.

The entire world collectively in a state of utter shock.

Lock, of course, was the first to move, grabbing my arm and snapping the whole squad out of our confused trance.

"We need to find the Commander before all hell breaks loose."

The bases alarm system went off almost instantly after she spoke.

Shit had just officially hit the fan.


The door to his office was open when we arrived, a clear sign he was either expecting us, or had just finished a meeting.

Yet despite the mission launch sirens going off, shouting could be heard clearly from inside. We wisely decided to wait outside, least we become the next target for his rage.

"Lockdown got you that fucking device from Germany weeks ago!" The Commander seethed from the room. "No! Right now I don't give a fuck about the cost! You have permission to use anything and everything to finish the project. Now stop asking me for shit and get. It. Fucking. Done."

The phone was already slammed down before the final word was even said. Clearly this was not a great day to be on the Commander's bad side.

"Plasma weapons," he stated, glancing at us as we quietly filed in, like that explained anything. "Engineering will have prototypes ready for you to test in a weeks time."

Several blank faces stared back at him as the news of what could only be described as an engineering marvel, was lost amongst the shit storm that had just recently been dropped on their heads.

"Right," he mused, resuming his pacing of the room. "You all heard the news. All out war was inevitable, but it seems the aliens, or ADVENT, or whatever the fuck they go by now, want to play hardball."

A controller of some kind was pulled from his pocket,and with not but a few key strokes, a massive holographic world map sprung up from the desk.

"We are currently having all squads pulled from cryo rotation, and in eight hours time you are going to spearhead a series of strikes against every single Forward Operating bases that belongs to the ADVENT forces."

Up on the map roughly eight yellow dots and three red dots appeared. Clearly the locations of each enemy base.

"The plan is simple." He continued. "XFS-105's will make a series of low altitude gun runs on the bases. You are to use this time to close distance, and take out any remaining ground forces. Clear the bases, grab anything you can on your way out, and retreat back to the ranger."

Beside the map a small device suddenly appeared. "You will all be planting experimental X1 charges on the way out, and remotely detonate them upon clearing the one mile blast zone."

My jaw dropped at the mention of the blast zone. One mile? The lethal zone for a two thousand pound Daisy Cutter was four hundred feet. Just what the fuck was in those experimental charges?!

"We are sending forces to every single F.O.B." the Commander continued, razor-focused. "But the ones we absolutely need to destroy are South America, France, and Kazakhstan. Those red dots are the three you will be hitting." The lights blinked for emphasis.

"Since we are attacking them all simultaneously, I am splitting you into three groups. Closure and Lock will take South, Chip and Psycho France, leaving Ace and the rookie to take Kazakhstan."

"Sir," Lock began tentatively. "With all due respect, I don't th..."

"Right now, I don't well give a fuck what you think Sargent." He instantly snapped back. "This is not the time for insubordination, it is the time for action. So grab your shit and get to the hanger ASAP. Central will prep you on the flight over, and I want you in position before the reinforcements arrive. Are we clear?"

A chorus of "Yes Sir!" rang out, followed by each member turning and making their respective way out of the office in what was a formal dismissal, but a waste of time for everyone involved.

Every single person broke out into a jog the moment they hit the hallway with each member darting off towards their prefered gear storage location. Worried looks were marking each one of us.

Even Lock, who was normally stone-faced when it came to these kinds of situations, seemed to be mentally preparing for what would be coming next.

I followed after her of course, slowly picking up speed as the hallways became clear, before all but breach kicking my door in upon reaching our rooms.

Thankfully everything was laid out on my bed, just as the medical scrubs had promised. I didn't even bother trying to keep it looking pretty, as I simply grabbed and stashed everything I could think of into a gear bag; shoving the first pistol I saw into my belt and grabbing both rifles, before making my way back out into the hall

Lock was already outside. A neatly packed couple of bags sat right beside her.

"Took you long enough." She muttered, grabbing the bags and jogging back towards the hangar.

"Well, I didn't exactly have the luxury of pre-packing now, did I!" I called after her, stumbling as the rifles in my arms awkwardly weighed one side down.

Talk was nonexistent as we made our way to the hanger, linking up with Chip and Psycho as they made their final mechanical checks. A distinct series of of burn marks littering both their suits.

Since neither of them were making a fuss about it, I figured things were ok. Lock, however, looked beyond pissed when she took note of the exterior damage they both still sported, stomping her way up to the tech working on Chip. "Why the fuck are they still damaged?!"

Chip immediately stepped forwards as a flicker of purple light ignited in her hand. "We are both operating at hundred percent, Sargent. The damage is purely cosmetic. Nothing more"

"It had better be," she growled, the glow in hand dimming considerably.

Standing well above her, both the MEC's were forced to lean over to make eye contact. "Don't worry about us Sarg," Psycho wryly smiled. "You just focus on making sure both of you are back here in time for the celebration."

The joking manner he spoke seemed to ease her slightly, as the glow finally winked out existence, allowing me to finally breathe normally. No joking for the next twenty four hours seemed like a pretty good idea right about now.

"Claymore! Front and center!"

Ace's gruff voice easily cut through the chaos of the hangar's staging area. I snapped my head around towards him as he made his way towards us, gear in tow.

I, for one, was confused as to who he was referring to. There was no Claymore as far as I was aware.

"Congratulations, Specialist Crawford," he grunted, dropping his gear bags next to me. "We were going to announce it tonight, but right now we have work to do. So say hello to your new call sign. Claymore. Best get use to it fast."

To say I was stunned would have been a bit of an understatement. Call signs were a right of passage for the army. A celebration of you officially becoming a ranking member of your squad; traditionally accompanied by a serious amount of alcohol.

It was only fitting that as with all things, Lockdown didn't give a fuck about tradition.

Call sign Claymore.

I had to admit, it did have certain ring to it.

"Alrighty then Ace," I nodded, trying my best to keep the internal freakout at bay. "Which bird is ours?"

"Flight pad three," he stated thumbing over his shoulder. "But first things first. Everyone gather round!"

Like an obedient bunch of dogs, the rest of the squad quickly moved over to us, forming a rough circle.

"Now this ain't the first time we have been split up," he began calmly. "And it won't be the last either by the sounds of things."

"That said," he looked around at each of us. "We have a celebration planned for tonight, that if even one of you is late for, will result in our new recruit having to down double the amount of booze. So for his sake, make sure to take your time out there."

A round of harsh chuckles followed as the rough humor worked its magic.

"Watch each others backs" Lock stated firmly. "Keep the enemy locked down. And remind them that this planet still has a few people willing to fight for it."

At the nods and affirmations, Lock gave a final solemn nod."Lockdown!" She bellowed, standing tall. "Saddle up!"

"Yes Ma'am!"